


My Turn to Cry

by dee430 (tuzitokki)



Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2019-01-05 16:53:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12193890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuzitokki/pseuds/dee430
Summary: After years of being strong, he finally lets his tears fall.





	My Turn to Cry

"Ne Wolfram, remember that time we went to Earth and Mama took you shopping?"

_The normally pristine uniform, torn and slashed and burned from countless attacks._

"She got you that blue shirt, the one that has tiny snowflakes printed on it. Said it went with your complexion so well."

_Dark red blood against the familiar blue uniform, the white cravat completely soaked with it._

"You got mad at me 'coz I wouldn't go with you, but I made up for that later didn't I? It was really the only time I could buy you a ring since you're always following me around."

_The gold band, worn proudly by the Prince Consort, now covered with red._

"And then when we got back and announced that we were finally getting married. I expected everyone to be surprised, to throw a fit, but the whole damn castle just acted as though they were expecting it. Then they threw a huge party to celebrate."

_The chaos of the battle field, bodies of humans and Mazoku alike, falling, on the ground, the clang of metal against metal, the glow and flash of majutsu and houjutsu that lit up the night. The stench of blood and smoke and burned flesh—_

"But that was nothing compared to the actual wedding, was it? And afterwards, during the party, I had to go looking for you 'coz you disappeared sometime after the dancing began."

_Fighting, barely aware enough to make sure not to strike allies. The weigh of the sword in his hand, Morgif finally revealing its true form and power in the midst of battle, seeing Conrad and Gwendal and Gunter fighting a few feet away. Eyes searching for the beloved head of blond, the growing panic when he couldn't find him, couldn't see his Wolfram anywhere—_

"I searched everywhere for you, y'know? The garden, the fountain, the bailey, heck, even the kitchen! But nobody saw where you went. Then I headed to the bedroom, thinking maybe you were tired and just went there to rest."

_Frantically searching, eyes wild, heart pounding with the knowledge that something's wrong because Wolfram would never leave his side in the middle of battle, would never just disappear if he could help it. The Maou also pushing him to find their beloved, adding to his panic, and then finally spotting the blue-clad blond only to see—_

"Imagine my surprise when I did find you there, but instead of resting… You were crying. I had no idea what to do. It was the first time I ever saw you cry. And it wasn't one of those pretty silent crying like how Cheri-sama does. You were sobbing."

_Wolfram, darling Wolfram, eyes closed, not responding, not moving. The stench of blood overpowering his natural scent, his uniform covered in blood. The usually pristine white cravat dripping with it, and the gaping slash across his neck—_

"When I asked why you were crying, you said you never expected that the day would come that I would actually marry you, and that until then it hadn't actually sunk in that we were married, and that I loved you. You have no idea how guilty I felt then. Or maybe you did, 'caus you called me a wimp when you finally looked at me."

_His beloved in his arms, limp and cold and lifeless. The building pressure in his own chest, making him unable to breath. Not believing what his own eyes were telling him, focusing all the healing power he had into healing the wound because Wolfram can't be dead, he can't be dead, WOLFRAM CAN'T BE DEAD!_

"Heh. I miss that, you calling me a wimp. I never thought I would, but there you go. I miss seeing you, holding you, laughing with you. I miss you, Wolf. So much. I—Everyone says it's normal, that it will go away in a few years. I don't want it to. I don't want to forget you."

_He could feel the Maou raging inside him, clawing to get out, to exact revenge from whoever had done this to their beloved. Yuuri let him, not caring that hundreds would probably die. Minutes that felt like seconds later he was back in his own body, still cradling Wolfram. The silence of the battlefield around him alerted him to the fact that the Maou had probably obliterated their enemies in one blow. Yuuri didn't care. All he could think about was his dead husband in his arms. He didn't even have time to mourn. He could already hear the murmurs like a buzzing bee, getting louder, and questions were already being asked. His people needed their king. He had no time to mourn._

"It's been seventy years now since we met. Sixty-seven since we got married. Ten years since I lost you and three since Greta and Murata died. Wolf, I don't know how I'll survive the next two hundred years without any of you."

_Coming back to the castle victorious from the war, but only after losing so much. Seeing the faces of those that had been left behind, those who had waited. Cheri-sama already crying, and beside her, Greta, dear Greta, running towards him and leaping into his arms as soon as he dismounted, sobbing, her tears soaking into his dusty uniform. He felt his heart squeeze for their daughter who had lost one of her beloved fathers. And still, his own tears refused to come._

"And now… Wolf, I want to give up. I want to be with you and Greta, wherever you are. I miss you both so much."

"Yuuri."

"Heh. Now I'm going crazy, hearing your voice."

"Yuuri you wimp, look up!"

And like a wolf scenting its mate, the king's face whipped up to a sight he never thought he would see again, standing under the shade of the tree that had been planted in his husband's memory.

"Papa!"

"Yo, Shibuya."

"Wimp!"

Black eyes widened in disbelief. "I… guys. What..? Am I—?"

"If you say you're hallucinating, I'm going to find a way to punch you," Wolfram said in a tone that Yuuri hadn't heard in a decade. It sent his mind reeling.

"But if I'm not hallucinating then what the hell is happening?!"

Greta gave a giggle. Yuuri tried to wrap his mind around the fact that she looked no more than twenty, when in fact she had been past seventy when she had— "Ken's right. Papa Yuuri's slow on the uptake."

Glasses flashed as Murata adjusted them. "Your father has always been a bit slow about these things. About everything, actually."

Yuuri sent his best friend a glare. He opened his mouth to retort, the closed it again. His eyes drifted over the three figures, only then noticing that they were semi-transparent and that Murata and Wolfram also looked around twenty years old. "Please don't tell me you're ghosts."

Brilliant green eyes rolled heavenwards. "Now he figures it out."

"Papa missed us so much, so we were allowed to visit," Greta chimed.

When Yuuri just continued stared at Wolfram, Murata stepped in to explain. This would take all day if he didn't. "The powers that be," he gestured vaguely to the sky, "saw you still mourning the loss of your family—I'm flattered to be included in the category, by the way. They felt it wasn't a fair treatment to someone who had finally made the peace between humans and Mazoku a long-lasting affair, so they sent us down here to give you a choice."

"A choice?" the king parroted.

"A choice," Wolfram confirmed. "You could stay here and live out your life as you were meant to do, and the gods would help dull your pain," he saw his husband frown and open his mouth to retort, but cut him off with a raised finger, "or you could come with us, forfeiting the rest of your life that you could spend here."

Yuuri didn't even have to think about it. "I'm coming with you."

"Are you sure, Papa? You can't go back."

He smiled at his daughter. "I am sure. The only other time I've been this sure is when I married your Daddy."

How a spirit could blush, Yuuri had no idea, but Wolfram managed it somehow. "You wimp! Saying embarrassing things like that!"

The king smiled, but there was a trace of sadness in it. He approached the blustering blond spectre, who quieted down the nearer he got. "I've missed you. I've missed you so much."

"I know," Wolfram replied sofly. "I wanted to be here, but I couldn't. I'm sorry I left you."

Yuuri lifted his hand and let it hover above his beloved's face, knowing that he can't touch, not yet. "Don't be. It wasn't by choice. We'll be together now, that's what's important. Take me home, Wolfram." Because home would always be where his family was.

Wolfram lifted a hand to his beloved's chest and gave him an angelic smile, and Yuuri felt his body become inexplicably lighter. Slowly, still unsure and afraid that the illusion might shatter, he let his palm rest against the pale cheek.

Warmth.

Yuuri felt the solidity beneath his palm, and that more than anything convinced that no, he wasn't hallucinating, he could finally be with Wolfram and Greta and Murata. With one swift movement he pulled the blond towards him and wrapped him securely in a tight embrace, ignoring the muffled oof and burying his nose into the crook of his husband's neck, inhaling the scent of smoke and jasmine that was so uniquely Wolf. His breath hitched, and before he knew it he was crying.

From the side, Greta watched as her Daddy Wolf returned Papa Yuuri's embraced, his emerald eyes shining with love that hadn't diminished since they were living. If anything, it had only grown stronger.

"Papa Yuuri never cried back then. Not even once."

"Hmm. I suspect he felt that he needed to be strong for everyone, and that if he started crying, he wouldn't be able to stop." Murata put an arm around his wife's shoulder, tugging her towards the city. "Come, my dear wife. Let's pay a visit to Blood Pledge Castle while we're here. We need to tell them that they need to find a new king."

Greta threw another look over her shoulder at her two fathers. She smiled. "Okay. I don't think they'll notice if we're gone for a while."

Back under the tree, Wolfram held the still-crying Yuuri, stroking his hair in comfort. "There now, my love. You've held them back long enough, let it all out."

"I l-love y-you Wo-wolf," Yuuri said between sobs. He still hadn't let go.

Above him, Wolfram smiled. "And I love you. More than anything."

Later, much later, when Greta and Murata had come back and Yuuri's sobs and died down, the four spectres vanished, leaving behind only the story of the 27th Maou, a hero, who loved his husband so much that he left his kingdom before his time to be with his beloved.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/tuzitokki), [AFF](https://www.asianfanfics.com/profile/view/1217835) and [Ask.fm](https://ask.fm/AngelusSuho)


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